Reasons of the Heart
by Janiqua
Summary: Kirk, Spock, and McCoy encounter a mysterious girl in the midst of a terrible fight against a new, powerful enemy. Who are the Toclafane? How are they related to the Daleks? And will logic be enough to save the day? Parallel realities abound!
1. Daleks

**Reasons of the Heart**

"The heart has reasons that reason does not know."

Blaise Pascal

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Star Trek, Doctor Who, or any other fandom. This is written purely for entertainment, though I will confess to some creative liberty. I mean, I'm not an expert in these shows, so I can't promise complete accuracy. This is just for fun. Don't take it too seriously. Just read it, and enjoy it. That's all it's here for. Please review, while you're at it.

**ooooooo**

"Captain's log, stardate 2275.5. Having reached the planet Naska, we are now preparing to investigate the recent distress signal originating from the capital. Our efforts to contact President Marcellus have failed, and for now, all is quiet. Our scanners detect considerable debris in orbit around the planet, leading us to assume a battle was fought between the Naskan fleet and an unknown enemy. Until we can gather more intelligence, we have no choice but to proceed with the utmost caution."

**ooooooo**

The landing party, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, and several security officers, arrived without incident in a small urban park outside the capital building. Physically, the city of Eska appeared no different than ever before. The various rectangular skyscrapers were constructed from a smooth and resplendent alloy, silver or blue in color, with a slight greenish tint. The streets were polished marble, and hovering in the sky, spherical transport pods waited for citizens to hail them down for utilization. As far as Kirk could tell, nothing about the city itself had changed. But as for the citizens…

"I don't think I've ever seen this place so deserted," McCoy observed as Spock regarded his hand held scanner. The only movement came from the leafs in the breeze, and the silence unsettled Kirk. More than anything, he hoped they weren't too late to assist their allies.

"I am picking up numerous life signs, captain," Spock stated, much to Kirk's relief. "The Naskans have been distributed into three locations. The capital building. The research center. And the detention center."

"Distributed?" Kirk asked, frowning. It was an unusual word for Spock to use. "Explain."

"The population has suffered a detrimental loss. Out of the millions residing in this city alone, only one hundred and thirty-two remain. Ten are being held in the capital building, forty at the research center, and eighty-two in detention."

"Who's holding them?" McCoy demanded.

"If the doctor would allow me to finish," Spock said, a hint of impatience in his stoic voice. "It is logical to conclude the surviving Naskans are prisoners, with the majority confined to the detention center. In each of the three locations, they are attended by creatures foreign to Naska. They, however, are not restricted to the same areas. I am detecting them throughout the city."

"Can you identify them?" Kirk asked, fearing he already knew the answer. Spock glanced at him, and for a moment, they silently held gazes.

"No," Spock said at last. "These readings indicate they are neither Naskan, nor human, nor any of our known enemies. I have never seen the like before. They appear to rely on polycarbide, somehow bonding it to produce a metal that I do admit is beyond my immediate comprehension." He handed the scanner to McCoy, who studied it intently while Kirk weighed their options. Until he knew exactly what they were up against, he was hesitant to provoke the strange creatures by approaching the detention center. Besides, he didn't have enough men to mount a rescue mission, should it be necessary. He was here to investigate, and answers might best be found in the other two locations.

"Mr. Spock, I want you to accompany me to the capital building. It is imperative we find President Marcellus. Phillips," Kirk addressed the ranking security officer. "Take your men and Dr. McCoy to the research center. I imagine these invaders have a purpose there, a purpose which may clarify their intentions. See if you can't discover what it is."

"Yes sir," Phillips replied, and with that, the landing party went their separate ways.

**ooooooo**

It did not take Kirk and Spock long to discover the invaders; they swarmed the city streets all the way to the capital building. Proceeding forward with any degree of stealth took a lot of effort, not to mention time, but thanks to years of training and experience, the two officers somehow managed. Of course, it would have been impossible with greater numbers, and Kirk worried about Phillips and his team. Mostly, he worried about Bones.

The invaders resembled over five and a half feet tall, conical mechanisms, not unlike Earth's antiquated peppershakers, with dome shaped heads boasting two white bulbs and a single eyestalk. They were armed with built in energy weapons, and if Kirk wasn't mistaken, their solitary arms functioned as scanning devices. Rows of spherical protrusions lined the bottom half of their frame, and though Kirk wasn't an engineer, he speculated they were some sort of sensory globes. Clearly they were highly sophisticated, gliding over the surface of the ground, if not hovering through the sky. Kirk knew Spock was impressed, but could not shake his own personal uneasiness, especially when the mechanisms communicated with each other.

They spoke in dispassionate, fragmented screeches, electrical, but distorted, convincing Kirk that something had caused their vocal apparatuses to malfunction. Spock did not seem to notice, but Kirk found their voices painfully unpleasant. When speaking, the two bulbs on their dome shaped heads lit up harshly, perhaps to distinguish the speaker from the others; after all, each of the creatures looked exactly alike. Their syllables were disjointed, their words calloused, and yet formal and efficient. They seemed unwilling to chat or banter; even in their victory, they behaved chillingly professional. Kirk wondered if they were sentient, or merely remarkable robots controlled remotely by undetected, distant beings. Either way, intuition assured him they were dangerous, and as he and Spock crept furtively toward the capital, they gave the robots a wide, wide berth.

At last, they found themselves squatting at the base of a monument dedicated to Eska's first president, and Marcellus's eldest predecessor, a remarkable woman called Horatia. On the other side, two of the invaders stood motionlessly before the steps leading up to the capital building, discussing whether or not their presence was required within. Apparently, the one on the right felt ignored by its compatriots, and did not approve of the "lack of communication." The other, however, did not believe it warranted investigation. Within minutes, the two were sliding away, seeking "orders" from their superiors. Feeling Spock's eyes on him, Kirk nodded, signaling him to move forward. Now was the time to enter the capital building.

Remaining low, they inched around the monument and dashed towards the wide marble steps leading up to the veranda. According to Spock's scanner, the path was finally clear, and they made their way through the sliding doors into an expansive blue atrium without hindrance. It came as a shock, therefore, when they found themselves facing not ten Naskan prisoners and their alien captors, but instead three dozen Naskan senators and four incapacitated alien heaps of scrap. Something had blasted them apart, and buried in the rubble, Kirk spotted bits of burnt black organic tissue. He could no longer doubt the presence of living, individual creatures inside the metal suits of armor, and those responsible for these four had shown no mercy.

"I do not understand, captain," Spock said as the senators all faced them with equal shock and suspicion. The Naskans were, on average, six feet tall, and red skinned. They had pale, pinkish antlers with noble tines, and walked on hooves like the fauns of ancient mythology. The senators wore white robes, and were famous for carrying bundles of scrolls wherever they went. At some point over the past few days, such symbols of peace had evidently been discarded, though Kirk could not see any weaponry replacing them. If he had to guess, he would find it difficult accusing any of them of destroying those four invaders.

"Spock?"

"Something is interfering with this scanning device," he replied immediately. "I cannot account for it."

"Captain Kirk!" A deep, melodic voice cut through the silent crowd, soothing Kirk's ears. He had not realized just how painful the invaders' screeching had been until now. The familiar shape of President Marcellus gracefully bounded towards the two companions, his smile warm, welcoming, and hopeful. "You have no idea how good it is to see you. We feared our distress call would not be heard in time. You must help my people evacuate, before it's too late."

"Of course, president, but nevertheless you must explain," Kirk interrupted. "Who are these invaders? What are they after? Why did Mr. Spock's scanner malfunction? We expected only ten of you…" He trailed off, too amazed by the sudden emergence of a young woman to complete his inquiry. She was clearly human, and yet she did not wear the standard uniform of either a Starfleet scientist or officer. Instead, she wore black pants and a pink shirt under a blue leather jacket. Her blonde hair fell straight down, an inch or two past her shoulders, her brown eyes expressed both despair and determination, if that was even possible, and in her arms, she carried a massive black gun, using a shoulder strap for additional support. As far as Kirk knew, a girl like her had no business on Naska, whether or not she was armed and capable of violence. He did not recognize her, and could not explain her.

"You're late," she stated calmly, speaking with a thick British accent. As she approached them, she waited for no introductions. "President Marcellus assured me you would come. To answer your questions, the invaders are called Daleks. They want to destroy everything; they are filled with hatred, and will spend the rest of eternity, if they have to, trying to exterminate every living thing in the universe. They're supremacists, they answer to no one, and they do not fear genocide. Fortunately, their numbers are still small, and the Naskans delivered quite a blow defending this planet, which might explain why the Daleks haven't finished killing them yet. As for your scanner, it didn't malfunction. I have activated a powerful perception filter, a very, very powerful perception filter, around this building. It's kind of like a cloaking device, but it doesn't turn us invisible. It merely directs an outsider's attention away from the reality of certain scenarios. The Daleks believe ten Naskans are being held prisoner here by other Daleks, not only because they want to believe it, but also because they're too arrogant to consider deception. Call it overconfidence, if you like. I don't know what their scanners are detecting, but they're making the same mistakes you did, because their perception, if not their technology, is faulty."

She spoke rapidly and sharply, summarizing like an expert. As Kirk struggled to process such an overload of vital information, he marveled at the girl's composure. Who was she? Where did she come from? How did she know so much about any of this? The situation was crucial; they were facing an enemy strong enough to defeat the Naskan fleet, and while the senators of the planet were known for their benevolence, the military had a reputation of its own. Despite that, Kirk found himself more impressed by the girl than anything else. Maybe it was her charisma…

"I should like to examine this perception filter," Spock said, always interested in new technology. "But perhaps at a more convenient hour. The Daleks, as you call them, are growing suspicious. Not five minutes ago, a pair of them stood outside this building debating whether or not they should investigate. It is my belief they will return soon with a more conclusive decision, and should it be they mean to inspect their prisoners, you will require a more sufficient place to hide until we can complete the evacuation."

"That's the beauty of a perception filter," the girl replied, seemingly unconcerned. "The subject of their debate will slip their minds within minutes, and they'll return to their posts without a care in the world. It's happened before. The only thing you need to worry about is evacuating the Naskans. All the Naskans, and not just the few fortunate enough to be holed up here."

"We don't intend to leave anyone behind," Kirk assured her, Marcellus, and the rest of the senators. "Regardless, I'm afraid it's not, as you say, the only thing we need to worry about. My primary objective is to investigate this new threat, and I mean to be thorough." He shot the girl a pointed look; impressive or not, she warranted equal scrutiny as the invaders. "Mr. President." Kirk beckoned Marcellus, and the two stepped away from the crowd, along with Spock, to speak privately.

"Surely a thorough investigation is unnecessary, captain," Marcellus whispered, anticipating Kirk's questions. "That young lady knows everything you could possibly want to know about the Daleks, and so much more. She arrived in Eska shortly after them, and had it not been for her expertise, we would either be dead or we would all be prisoners. This haven is her doing alone. We owe her everything, captain. Please, help my people evacuate, return to _Enterprise_, and then fly as fast and as far away from Naska as you can. Warn the galaxy of the Daleks. Any additional information required, you can easily receive from the young lady. She is eager to assist us, and I trust her with my life."

"Be that as it may," Kirk said, glancing back over his shoulder at the blonde woman, who stood watching him with an expression that almost reminded him of Spock: serious and unaffected on the surface, but filled with unspeakable emotion deep within, where few could see. "Who is she? How much do you really know about her?"

"She is a mystery," Marcellus confessed, without losing a fraction of his faith in her. "She does not speak of herself. We do not even know her name. Nevertheless, I can promise you she will not forsake us."

"That, Mr. President, is highly illogical," Spock pointed out, and for once, Kirk doubted even Bones would disagree. How can you justify trusting an absolute stranger, especially a stranger refusing to identify herself, without even the slightest degree of reservation? It was hardly prudent.

However, before they could argue the matter further, Kirk's communicator chirped to life, and upon answering it, he was greeted by Uhura's voice. "Captain, we just received a distress call from Lieutenant Phillips. They're under attack, sir, and the transporter room can't get a fix on them."

The mysterious young lady must have overheard, for she reacted at once, racing to the door as if her own life was at stake. She didn't even know where she was going, but apparently that wasn't enough to slow her down. Kirk gestured for Spock to go after her, while trying to ignore the small, satisfied smile that appeared on Marcellus' face. "Uhura, send me the closest approximate coordinates you have on Phillips' location, and tell the transporter room to begin evacuating the Naskans, starting with those in the capital building. We may need reinforcements. Have some men standing by, but wait for my command." Uhura acknowledged, and Kirk glared at Marcellus. "I take it you admire the lady for running headfirst into danger?"

"She has indeed placed the lives of my people ahead of her own on more than one occasion. I imagine some would call her reckless, but I would call her selfless. Be thankful, captain. When she puts her mind to it, she rarely fails, and no matter how bold she seems, you must remember, she is proficient at misleading Dalek perceptions. They won't notice her, or you, if you stay in close proximity to her."

"Then I had best catch up," Kirk snapped, slightly irritated, and without another word, he ran after Spock and the young lady. She had no right interfering with his duties, and until he felt sure of her intentions, he had no inclination to trust her as blindly as Marcellus. As soon as he saw Phillips, Bones, and the other officers out of danger, he would start demanding answers, and if she didn't comply, there would be trouble. Just as soon as Bones was out of danger… Kirk realized he was getting ahead of himself, but was also loath to consider rescuing Bones might not be as easy as he wished.

**ooooooo**

**A/U:** So what do you think? My brother says a crossover between Star Trek and Doctor Who is impossible, but I wasn't so sure, so I decided to test it. Hopefully it won't be too farfetched or confusing. After all, it is sci-fi… Anyway, please review! Thanks!


	2. Davros

**A/N: **All right, here is where it might get confusing… If you're a Doctor Who fan, just try to imagine what mighthave happened to Davros if Dalek Caan had not teleported back into the Time War during series 4, and why the Cult of Skaro happened to be in the void during series 2. If you're not a Doctor Who fan, don't stop reading! Hopefully I'll do a sufficient job describing everything as the fic continues. As always, feedback is appreciated.

**ooooooo**

They had been ambushed in the atrium of the primary research facility. The trap must have been set from the start, for Lieutenant Phillips had taken considerable care to remain undetected as they crept through the maze of city streets. Not once did he display overconfidence, but in the end, it made no difference. The invaders anticipated them, awaited them, and surrounded them the moment they entered the atrium. The subsequent attack lasted less than a minute, no time for talking, no time for questions, no time to so much as look for an escape.

In fact, in such a short amount of time, Phillips could only push McCoy to the ground and press a button on his communicator that automatically relayed a distress call to _Enterprise_, which was fortunate, because not even that would have been possible if each of their attackers had fired on them at once. As it was, only a single, solitary unit made the actual assault. It slid forward, and slaughtered the security officers with merciless, efficient rapidity, one by one. With each ray, the victims lit up; the flesh deteriorated, revealing the skeleton, which instantly dissolved into handfuls of dust and ash. Phillips was the last man standing, but it did not take long for the monster to slay him as well.

Shocked, McCoy sat on the ground staring at each pile of dust speechlessly. He could feel himself shaking, and for a moment, he thought he would be sick. Though he dealt with death on a regular basis, this was different. He could never reconcile himself with ruthless cruelty, and these men were not even given a chance to defend themselves.

He sensed the attackers approaching him, and forced his eyes away from his friends' remains. It was his turn now, and he fully expected to die. In one instant, dozens of questions passed through his mind. Would it hurt? Would Jim survive? Would Spock even care? Would either of them know how much they meant to him? How could this be happening? Was it really his time? What would happen afterwards? Had he done enough? Was his life worth anything? Would he be remembered? Why was it taking so damned long?

His attackers towered over him, their eyestalks studying him with frightening intensity. Nothing happened. Breathing became difficult, and McCoy realized he was impatient for the affair to be done with. "What's wrong?" he demanded, trying to keep from sounding frantic. "You're not getting cold feet now, are you? Don't you think it's a little late for that? Go on and finish your job!" Just end it.

"You will stand," stated one of the machines, for what else could they be but machines? Damnable machines with monotone, screeching voices. "You will stand," it insisted.

"Fine," McCoy shot back. "You can slaughter a team of unthreatening, unsuspecting, peaceful men, but only if they're on their feet, eh? I suppose it makes you feel somewhat respectable, so you can justify this massacre. Well, whatever helps you sleep at night!" And with that, he pushed up off the ground, climbed to his feet, and faced the murderer. "Take your best shot."

Instead, two of his surrounding attackers slid forward, one on either side of him. Before he knew what was happening, they each revealed retractable metal clamps. The clamps closed in on his wrists, squeezing tightly. McCoy grimaced, and when he tried to pull free, he only succeeded in tearing skin. The conical machines then displayed their ability to rotate their upper and lower parts while leaving their middle part, where the clamps were fixed, in place. That way, they could slide forward easily, dragging McCoy along between them. They weren't going to kill him. For some reason, they singled him out to be their prisoner, and McCoy had no idea which was worse. "Where are you taking me?" he demanded, but received no answer.

Fortunately, it did not take long to find out. Off to the side of the primary research facility, an expansive courtyard led to a greenhouse, the largest in the city. During _Enterprise's_ last visit to Naska, Sulu had asked for special permission to join the landing party so he could explore the place; among other things, he was a botanist at heart, and McCoy still remembered his excitement. Well, this time, he was the one touring the greenhouse, and though his blood was certainly running warm, he did not share any of Sulu's delight.

The greenhouse was filled with plants of every size and color. A few bushes and trees grew from the ground, some sat on rows of countertops, and others were displayed in hanging flower pots. In any other situation, McCoy would have admired the display, but after a minute, he paid the Naskan flora absolutely no attention. Eventually, they reached the heart of the greenhouse, and there McCoy found several counters forming a semicircle. They had been stripped of plant life, and now supported microscopes and other piles of equipment belonging in medical facilities, not greenhouses.

In the midst of it all, a large metal conical frame, not unlike the invading machinery, stood with its upper section cut open, revealing the alien creature residing within. It resembled a black, overgrown, mutated brain with hideous eyes and tentacles. Leaning over it was an invalid man, obviously crippled and confined to an advanced life support system, including a mobile seat that resembled the base of the conical invaders. When he sensed his guests, he rotated away from his project and stared directly at McCoy. Bald, gray skinned, wrinkled, withered, and scarred, with a disabled arm and sunken eyes, he was anything but a healthy, attractive creature. He had a round blue cybernetic vision enhancer set in the middle of his forehead, he dressed in black leather, and when he spoke, his voice was ragged, staccato, and practically electronic. "I have been expecting you. Please, come forward. You are most welcome here."

The clamps released McCoy's wrists, and while instinct urged him to run, he also felt compelled to stay. Must have been the doctor in him. He now had something humanoid to confront, not just those faceless robotic things, and the humanoid seemed near death, in need of medical assistance. Perhaps this was all an act of desperation. Perhaps, if he could be treated, he might not be as heartless as he seemed. Cautiously, McCoy stepped forward. "I am Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the _USS Enterprise_. Your friends here just killed several security officers without the slightest provocation. I want to know why."

The stranger chuckled, maneuvering his life support chair forward in amusement. "Starfleet uniforms are color coded, I believe. I have no use for either the red shirted security officers or engineers. Once their occupations were determined, they became expendable, and better off dead." With that, McCoy's hopes of finding an ally in this stranger abandoned him. He was as monstrous as his machines. "I am Davros, lord and creator of the Toclafane you see standing around you. I admit, they are still young, but given time, they will inevitably become the single most powerful beings in the universe. Consider yourself honored, my friend. You have the opportunity to witness their rise to glory." Definitely not an act of desperation, then. More like an act of insanity.

"And why am I so lucky?" McCoy asked, glancing around at the Toclafane nervously. It wasn't everyday he met with power-hungry, megalomaniacs. Such situations were never enjoyable. "You said the security officers were expendable. Well, I'm a doctor, not a security officer. What the devil do you need me for?"

"Doctor," Davros spoke the word slowly, as if savoring some rare delicacy. McCoy did not appreciate the tone, or its implications, and suddenly realized it would have been wiser to conceal his occupation. Maybe he should have claimed to be a scientist. "I knew a doctor once. A great doctor. Perhaps the best in the universe. I had such respect for him, Dr. McCoy, more than he will ever know. Now that he is gone, I fear I have no one left to esteem. The Toclafane are my children, and soon they shall rule supreme, but there is something constant and indecipherable dividing a creator from his beloved, devoted creation. They cannot replace my doctor. He was my peer, my equal, the closest thing I ever had to a friend. No matter. I shall make do without him. You will assist me."

"Right," McCoy retorted, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Davros noticed, and nodded in approval.

"Good, good. I had hoped to find someone with a bit of spine. That is precisely why _he _loved you humans so much. Your passion. Your resolve. When I conquered this world, the Naskans accepted their defeat. True, their military fought quite admirably, but when the time came, they surrendered. They grew pathetic, no longer resistant. I asked their scientists to assist me here, since this planet is ideal for the Toclafane. The nutrients, the levels of radiation, everything I need to birth an army of perfect, flawless soldiers can be harnessed in this single greenhouse. It is a dream come true. The Naskan scientists should have made my victory twice as sweet, but I find their hopeless sniveling, their despair, rather wearisome."

"You mean you enjoy feeling dominant," McCoy interrupted, sick to his stomach. "Something tells me you get a kick out of coercion, and it isn't nearly as satisfying when your victims consent. You would much rather watch them struggle."

"And humans always do," Davros said, smiling maliciously. "They never give up, and retain their hope even when all is lost. I know there is a starship in orbit. I detected its approach, just as I detected the transport beams that brought you and your security officers down to the surface of this planet. I regret failing to welcome you properly, but with everything I have to accomplish, I couldn't just leave the greenhouse, and the Toclafane all have duties of their own. I knew you would come to the research facility. It was, after all, the logical course of action. So I ordered a few of the Toclafane to wait in the atrium for your arrival, and the rest is history. Eventually, your ship will send down a rescue party, and another after that. With a bit of time and patience, I will assuredly capture your _USS_ _Enterprise_, and with her as my flagship, I shall attack the Federation. By the time they realize we are a threat, it will be too late."

From the sound of it, Davros had no idea Jim and Spock were also on the planet. He knew _Enterprise_ had beamed down a landing party, but he didn't know the number of the party, and he didn't know it split up. There might still be hope. "It won't be that easy, Davros. You're not the first person to try commandeering _Enterprise_."

"But I will be the last," Davros promised. "Now, I require your aid. I need to strengthen this Toclafane's immune system. Normally, they are protected from viruses and bacteria by their Dalekanium armor, but one can never be too careful." He rotated back around to face the mutated organism lying inside the open suit of armor. "And please, doctor, don't make me send you off after the other Naskan scientists. They're researching weaponry under Toclafane supervision, and I doubt their discussions are as stimulating as ours could be."

"I have nothing to discuss with you," McCoy informed him, taking a step back. He heard Davros chuckle, but after that, received no response. It seemed the lord and creator of the Toclafane was done leading the conversation, which left McCoy at a loss. The bastard wanted him to fight, or at the very least argue. He was tired of compliant prisoners. Somehow, McCoy needed to escape, but without entertaining his captor in the process. Was that even possible?

"Bones! Get down!"

Jim's voice came out of nowhere, but McCoy didn't pause to consider the unexpected command. He lunged to the floor and pressed his back up against the base of a solid counter. Meanwhile, Davros and the Toclafane all swung around to search for the source of the commotion. Ostensibly stepping out of thin air, Jim, Spock, and a young blonde woman charged towards the Toclafane, aiming either phasers or, in the girl's case, an enormous gun. The phasers were minimally effective, at best stunning the Toclafane for a few short seconds. The gun, however, managed to blow two of the Toclafane to pieces.

Davros roared. "Kill them!"

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

"You exterminate us, and I'll pull the trigger!" The blonde girl shouted, racing over to Davros and jamming the barrel of her gun into his side. For a tense moment, no one moved or said a word, except the girl. She turned her head, glancing from the Toclafane to Davros and back again. "You see, I know you. I know how hateful you are, how discriminative. This bloke? From the looks of it, he's only _half_ Dalek, and that's not enough, not nearly enough. You wouldn't put up with a _half _Dalek, now would you? Not unless he's extremely important. You need him, and if you don't keep your distance, I'll kill him."

McCoy had no idea what a Dalek was, but nevertheless, the young woman's speech successfully kept the Toclafane at bay. They analyzed her silently, and then, coming to some conclusion, they slid backwards, much to Davros' consternation. "My children, do not allow this girl to intimidate you! Kill her! Kill her now!"

"We obey," one of the Toclafane replied, but not to its master. It addressed the girl, with a hint of alarm in its mechanically distorted voice. "You will not harm Lord Davros."

"Davros, is it?" The girl looked back at her hostage, grinning smugly. "My, my, aren't you a prize? A gang of heartless Daleks don't suffer humiliation for the sake of just anyone." Davros glared at her hatefully, leaving McCoy with the impression that, if looks could kill, she would be dead ten times over.

"Bones, are you all right?" With Spock covering him, Jim sidled over to McCoy and helped him to his feet.

"I'll be just fine, I'm sure. Lieutenant Phillips…" McCoy swallowed hard, feeling the effects of shock and fatigue slowly overwhelming him. He shook his head. "They killed him and the rest of the men. There was nothing I could do, Jim. It happened too quickly." Ever so slightly, Jim sagged, sighing in resignation. He hated losing his men, as much as McCoy did, but at that moment, they had no time to mourn. After patting McCoy's shoulder, Jim turned to face Davros' new antagonist, and despite everything, McCoy's curiosity got the best of him. "Who is she? And where did you come from, Jim? How did you sneak up on us?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. Whoever she is, she can manipulate one's perception. She can move about freely, wherever she desires, without anyone ever noticing."

"A girl who filters perception and recognizes Daleks," Davros grumbled, raising his one good arm to massage his right temple. "I must be dreaming."

"Oh yeah?" the girl exclaimed. "Why's that, then?"

"Because Daleks do not exist in this reality! They never have!" As if she had been slapped in the face, the girl fell back a step. Somehow she managed to keep her gun aimed at Davros, discouraging the Toclafane, Daleks, or whatever the hell they were called, from attacking, but her face paled considerably, like one staring at a ghost. Her reaction allowed Davros to relax, and he smiled at her, regaining composure. "Perhaps you have heard whispers of an indescribable war that raged between the Daleks and the Time Lords? I led the Daleks. I commanded them. Oh, but they failed me. I can still remember the day I fought my last battle at the Gates of Elysium. I should have died. My ship careened into the jaws of the Nightmare Child, and not even my Doctor could save me. Had it not been for the Cult of Skaro, it would have ended there and then. But they hijacked a void ship, along with a rescued prison ship, and unlocked the Howling, the space between realities. They sucked me in, and deposited me here. To this day, I cannot fathom why they refused to follow me through, but it no longer matters. They stranded themselves in the void, while leaving me in this parallel reality to start anew, with no Doctor to get in my way."

"No," the girl shook her head, clearly in denial. McCoy could barely follow a word Davros said, but he knew it involved parallel realities, which could potentially threaten the entire universe, and he knew it affected the girl in a profound way. Her eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"It is true," Davros assured her. "As disappointing as the Daleks proved themselves to be, I knew I had to change them, develop them into something truly superior. So I recreated them in the first sufficient laboratory I stumbled upon. It took me years, but I made them with the cells of my very own body. They are a part of me, my children, loyal, devoted, and passionate. Understand, I gave them passion, inherited from my own ambition. Should I die, they will fall into a burning rage unlike anything the Daleks ever experienced. Sheer fury, driven by their grief, their loss, for they love me, and will mourn my passing. Nothing shall stand in their way, and through them, I shall achieve immortality. Davros will be remembered. How could I name them after their predecessors? After failures? They deserve so much more, they deserve a name they can wear with pride and dignity. The Toclafane. It is a name that strikes fear into the hearts of every Time Lord. It is the only name that suits them. You, my dear, cannot possibly know about the Daleks, for I have never mentioned them, not once, since arriving in this reality."

"You created the Daleks?" The girl trembled; she sounded agonized. "You started the Time War? You… You're the reason why the Cult of Skaro entered the void in the first place. They're always looking for a way to survive, and if worse ever came to worst, they would need your help. If they hadn't, then… then there might never have been a breach between our realities. The Cybermen would have stayed where they belonged. The Battle of Canary Wharf would never have happened. And I'd still be with him… This is your fault. It's all your fault!"

Spock swept to the girl's side before she could do anything rash. She had the look of a crazed, unstable, hysterical woman, capable of anything, and the last thing they needed was for her to kill their only hostage. Without a word, Spock confiscated her weapon, removing the shoulder strap with graceful ease, while keeping the barrel trained on Davros. As always, he remained strangely detached, cold, and impassive even as the madman laughed at the poor girl. McCoy didn't share the Vulcan's indifference, and when the girl staggered over to the nearest countertop, leaning against it for support as she battled a wave of nausea, he felt compelled to help her. He attempted to approach her, but Jim restrained him.

"Then it is as I thought," Davros stated in the meantime. "You and I are from an alternate reality, perhaps the same reality. Tell me, if you know so much about the Time War, how did it end? When did the Cult of Skaro return from the void? And was _he _there to save you? The Doctor? Did he survive?"

Very stiffly, the girl righted herself and looked back at Davros. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and for a moment they lit up with a golden light purer than anything produced by the bulbs on the heads of the Daleks. "Because of you, the Oncoming Storm is ever raging, and I can no longer quell it. You will answer for your crimes, Davros." She glanced sharply at the nearest Dalek. "No need to panic, I won't kill him. But rest assured; he'll face justice." With that, she promptly transformed into a pillar of sparkling gold, along with Davros, Jim, and Spock. It took McCoy a moment to realize he, too, was undergoing dematerialization. For once in his life, he actually didn't mind, and prepared himself to praise Scotty for his timing. However, that gratitude suffered a very short life.

Somehow, they did not arrive in _Enterprise's _transporter chamber, but in a corridor on one of the lower decks. A solitary security officer jumped to attention and grabbed his phaser more out of surprise than necessity. He only lowered it when he recognized Jim. "I recommend keeping a close watch on him," the girl said before any questions could be asked, nodding toward Davros. "Daleks are extremely intelligent, tactical, and downright evil. If there's a way to kill you, they'll find it, and _he's _the one who brought them to life. Don't give him even the slightest opportunity to cause any more destruction." Pushing past the security officer, she started running down the corridor, and as she went, she literally vanished from sight.

"Captain!" yelled the security officer.

"She's distorting our perceptions," Jim deduced, quickly snatching the giant weapon from Spock's arms. "See if you can follow her. You might very well be the only one aboard this ship with enough concentration to pinpoint her location, and I do not want her roaming around my ship unsupervised. I'll attend to our guest." Spock nodded while Davros snarled, and despite years of disagreement, McCoy knew without a doubt he preferred the Vulcan's company.

"I think I'm going to help Spock," he informed Jim. "See if I can't figure out how she managed to beam us up here." He remembered how her eyes glowed, and how her last words down on the planet's surface suggested she knew in advance they were about to depart. She had a hand in it, if she wasn't completely responsible, and McCoy couldn't think of a better excuse for running away from Davros. He didn't wait for Jim's reply, but immediately followed Spock and the mysterious young woman.

Apparently she hadn't gone far. As the corridor curved, revealing a series of doors and a turbolift, Spock stopped short. McCoy couldn't see anyone, but he trusted they had caught up with her. After all, Jim wasn't wrong about Spock's enhanced perception. They waited silently, motionlessly, but before long the silence gnawed on McCoy. "Where is she?"

Instead of answering, Spock walked forward and bowed his head, addressing the floor. "By now you must have realized you cannot depend on a perception filter to conceal yourself from me, and I do not advise you to continue your attempt to hide."

"I didn't want anyone seeing me like this." When the girl reappeared, she was sitting with her back up against the wall and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She was shivering, her face soaked with sweat and tears. Once again, McCoy felt an urge to help her, to examine her and relieve her pain, but when he moved to do so, she flinched, making him hesitate. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I thought, after everything I've seen, everything I've been through, nothing could ever surprise me, but Davros… he caught me so off guard. I just need some time to get a hold of myself, to numb the old wounds he's reopened. Then I'll answer your questions."

"You take all the time you need," McCoy told her as gently as he could, earning what he considered an irritated look from Spock. "There's no hurry."

"On the contrary, Doctor," Spock interrupted, but McCoy had no patience for his logic today.

"Whatever you're about to say, I beg to differ, you unfeeling, green-blooded calculator. I'm the chief medical officer, and I say she's in no condition for an interrogation."

"No, he's right," the girl said, defending Spock. "The Daleks are going to come looking for Davros, and we can expect them to be furious. There's no time to waste. We have to protect the Naskans and prepare for a battle unlike anything this ship has ever experienced. I can't be sitting here like a piece of rubbish, but it hurts so much it's suffocating. You just don't know. I've been to hell and back, and not even a confrontation with the devil compares to Davros! He's ruined so many lives! My life! Not to mention the life of the one man I care about more than anyone else in the universe!"

"If you cannot suppress your emotions, answer our questions, and aid us against the Daleks, then I will have no choice but to confine you either to Sick Bay or your own private quarters," Spock informed her. "We cannot trust you to behave reasonably. Your present condition perfectly demonstrates why Vulcans adhere to logic, rather than emotion. Your hysteria paralyzes you, and unless you calm down this instant, you will be of no use to us."

Much to the consternation of each officer, the girl actually laughed, though she sounded contemptuous and anything but amused. "Logic? Paralysis? Do you know what happens when two perfectly logical armies go to war? Each side can predict every move the other plans to make and they end up in a stalemate." McCoy grinned; here was a girl he could truly befriend. "Daleks are logical. Suppressing emotions is the last strategy I need to face them. Certainly not the first."

"Except we are not facing true Daleks, we are facing Toclafane," Spock said, utterly unruffled. "I understand you and Davros come from a parallel reality where the Daleks may or may not be 'perfectly logical,' but you forget, in this reality, Davros has made them, in his own words, 'loyal, devoted, and passionate.' They will succumb to rage, and their judgment will also cloud. Any information you can provide will be of great use to us, but ultimately, you have no more experience fighting them than the Naskans, and until you can control yourself, I will turn to them for aid, while leaving you with Dr. McCoy. As he already stated, you are unwell."

"Spock!" McCoy protested, but the Vulcan had set his eyes on the turbolift, and upon accessing it, he took off for the bridge. "Stubborn, uncompromising imp…" He glanced at the girl, and tentatively knelt down, leaning his back against the wall across from her, trying not to alarm her. "I apologize for him. More often than not, I just don't think he knows what a broken heart feels like. As you can probably tell, he dreads to feel anything at all." When the girl didn't respond, McCoy kept talking.

"Believe it or not, I know what it's like living in an alternate reality. Our transporter malfunctioned during an ion storm, and we found ourselves stranded in a world where brutality and aggression had completely replaced honor and ethics. Everything was different, and I… I guess, more than anything, I feared being trapped in a place where my friends, people I'd die for, were suddenly strangers. I feared it, and couldn't accept it… so much so I almost missed my chance at getting home to save that other Spock's life. It's so easy mistaking one version for the other, but then he goes and does something that reminds you how much of a stranger he is, and once again you find yourself terrified and desperately homesick. I suppose it's worse for you, being stuck here alone. At least I had Jim, Scotty, and Uhura."

"I wasn't always alone," she assured him. "I had my mum, and one of my very best friends. But that was so long ago… lifetimes ago… and I've grown used to it. If you're stuck in a strange situation long enough, you adapt to it. It becomes your reality. You can't change it, and eventually you carry on with your life." At that point, her voice grew bitter. "Until your past catches up with you, and you find yourself in the company of a man from your old reality, the reality you belong in. Then it all stops, like you've hit a brick wall, and _that's _when 'you find yourself terrified and desperately homesick.' To make it infinitely worse, the man's lord and master of the _Daleks_."

"You said he ruined your life, but down in the greenhouse, you didn't recognize him."

"The Daleks ruined my life," she explained. "And he created the Daleks. By doing so, he began a war that encompassed not just space, but time itself. He should have died, but apparently four Daleks, the Cult of Skaro, rescued him at the last second. By sending him to this reality, they trapped themselves in the space between realities. The void. When they finally managed to return, they threatened Earth. I fought them, and ended up falling through the hole they ripped in the void. That's how I got here, and it wouldn't have happened if Davros had just been decent enough to die."

"I'm sorry," McCoy said, and he was sincere. Normally he didn't approve when people wished death on others, but something about Davros… whether or not he approved, a part of him couldn't help but agree. The man was, like the girl said, simply evil. "You know," he continued after a pause, ready to brave new territory, vital territory. "I don't think you and I have been properly introduced. I'm Dr. Leonard McCoy."

"Doctor," the girl whispered, testing the word out in her mouth. It reminded McCoy of earlier, down in the greenhouse, when Davros spoke the same word almost intimately. His tone had chilled McCoy, but this time, with the girl, it was different. When she spoke the word, McCoy felt his heart ache, and he didn't know why. Whoever this Doctor was, this Doctor from her past, and Davros' past, wherever he was, and whatever he had done, he was yet another connection between the two, and it occurred to McCoy that he might either be dead or cut off from their reality, stuck in a parallel one. Hadn't Davros said he was gone, completely out of the picture?

"My friends call me Bones," McCoy added, hoping to console her by eliminating whatever painful reminder his title might be to her. And sure enough, he managed to bring a small smile to her lips, though he suspected she was merely trying to be strong.

"I'm Rose," she told him. "Just… Rose."

**ooooooo**

**A/N: **What do you think? Confusing? Err… I hope not! But what can you do? Please send me some feedback. I have a few ideas of where I want to go with this fic, but I'm not adverse to any recommendations you may have. Let me know what you'd like to see! And thanks for reading!


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